


spotlight! (you make me wonder)

by reinli



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi, Self-Indulgent, Tension, actor!?? rise, actor!mingyu rise, all kinds of it, because it truly is, but my hearteu, crack-ish??, god i need some tea, idk really, im about to cry im supposed to be memorizing the constitution, inspired by THAT star show 360 segment, lol who am i kidding it's far from being kinda, stella adler begs to differ, viola spolin is shaking in her grave
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 19:48:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13620480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinli/pseuds/reinli
Summary: Jeon Wonwoo just wants to sleep but when you are actually suffocating to death at your supposed best friend's mercy, it's hard not to actually do something.Apparently, crushing the norm takes months of preparation, and slavery disguises itself nowadays in the form of friendship.He has learned it from years of writing that nothing ever goes according to plan, so seriously why does he even bother.Fuck it.And fuck Kim Mingyu, too.





	spotlight! (you make me wonder)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything's going well with wonwoo's seemingly bland life, until choi seungcheol.

Jeon Wonwoo's work life entails two of the activities that he enjoys doing the most: writing and correcting people. Normally, this would result to greater, _and brighter_ , situations so it is no wonder that it takes a grand time for some to fully digest that Wonwoo persists to remain the way that he is right now— boring and disinterested (at work and love, but mostly at work).

 

Wonwoo tries to salvage what’s little left of his reputation by attributing this— and justifying it later on in his head— with the fact that all he gets to face are equally boring academic pieces to proofread; that, and the apparent lack of active participation from the other party, seeing as to how this whole thing only allows him to correct it _in paper_ (which, in turn, means that Wonwoo would never have the pleasure of engaging in a heated argument that could paint the face of his client in utter embarrassment and indignity. not exactly professional in a work ethic perspective, but it is how it is). This, in his opinion, has stunted his vigor for anything else.

 

Now, when people think of the post-grad phase, it involves taking some time off so as to make sure what path might be right for them. Maybe, get some soul-searching done, or an internship to solidify one’s credential. But Wonwoo, in his own words, ‘got no time for that.’ So, a day after his graduation, Wonwoo moved to the cheapest place he could find _in fucking Seoul,_ and printed his pathetic excuse of a CV (for a literature student, he sure can’t put his skills into good use), and by which inevitably, and tragically, lands him an unappealing position in the seemingly earthly counterpart of purgatory, VT Publishing.

 

Wonwoo could not really say that he hates his job, his friends— on the other hand— would be a totally different case. Sure, it is not quite, if at all, an exciting endeavor, but this was (still is, he supposes) the life he envisioned for himself one summer night as he awaits the horror that college could only bring. He has long accepted the fact that bright ideals after his college life would only let him down, so he tried to squash whatever is left of his expectations. It is, after all, what’s best for everyone.

 

But Wonwoo can’t help sometimes, to think of livelier days ahead, and a certain one wherein he can finally enact what made him pursue literature in the first place. He may not think (and look) like it, with the pragmatist in him always hogging the throne above all forms of reasoning but Wonwoo’s actually a dreamer, the recesses of his mind occupied by an unbridled longing for the moment that he can finally create better worlds, carefully thought-out challenges, and lighter resolutions through his words. It certainly won’t do to dwell on it now, not when his colleague Jaehyun is looking at him like he had just committed the next murder that would bring the Third World War at hand (and even at this scenario, Wonwoo continues to be huge ass inconvenience). Wonwoo heaves a sigh and brings the cup of coffee closer to his lips. He settles in his cubicle and marks the day with corrections away.

 

It was midway through his 5th transcript of an interview about some coastal reclamation in a far-flung town in Guangdong Province when Wonwoo felt a hand yank him out of his chair and his well-presumed idle mind. This is probably, for Wonwoo at least, the most action that he has gotten in the nearing three years of his seemingly bland work life. Shaken to his core, Wonwoo looks at the suspect to this _highly-welcomed_ disturbance, only to see no one else but his _much unwelcomed_ best friend.

 

“Hello, Wonwoo. I see you’re living up to your image now, huh…..and- oh hell, what’s up with that lousy ass tie?!” The person all but screeches as he moves closer to his ear, with a mask of fear painted on his rather _unpleasant_ face (who is he kidding, his best friend is smoking hot but not when he smells like he has not brushed his teeth— if his breath is anything to go by—and washed his face in days), “what the fuck are they trying to do to you here, Wonwoo? This place is a hellhole!”

 

His best friend dramatically grips both his hands like it would serve as some sort of immunity from Wonwoo’s underemployed coworkers.

“Shut up, Seungcheol. And holy fuck, why do you smell like your head’s actually been in the gutter? What godforsaken place did you come from?”

“I’ll answer your questions later. For now, I believe you owe me some coffee.”

 

Wonwoo could only roll his eyes so much, but Seungcheol has long bid his stay in the office— _how in the fresh piece of insanity did he even get in—_ and Taeil’s been adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose for the 15th time since Seungcheol arrived, and Wonwoo visibly gulps. It would do him no good to wait for Taeil to push his glasses for the 20th time, and that it'd be best to leave pronto if he does not want to come back to a pile of more transcripts of interviews and focus group discussions about coastal reclamation sitting atop his table.

 

With that thought to push him to move, he drags Seungcheol out of the building but not before catching a glimpse of the bile-inducing, and admittedly greasy, wink that Seungcheol threw the receptionist’s way. The lady all but giggles and mouths a _call me_ for Seungcheol to see.

 _Oh my god_ , _Choi Seungcheol did it again._

She surely won’t do the same, once she knows that Seungcheol is innately and unabashedly gay, but small graces, Wonwoo supposes. He throws a sympathetic glance her way before continuing his march outside. Ignorance surely is a bliss.

 

\--

 

Once they’ve sitted their asses off on faux leather couches, Wonwoo meets Seungcheol’s eyes. They still are as bright as his eyes have been about 7 years ago, when sophomore Seungcheol (who at that time, Wonwoo fancied calling as _sunbae)_ handed a certain lanky freshman whose nametag aptly and disgracefully reads as _jEN wonw0o_ in shaky American letters— curse whoever wrote it, Wonwoo swears— a flier about some overnight freshman gathering hosted by the council in partnership with the cinephile org that Seungcheol headed for a significant amount of time.

 

Up till this point, it remains a blur to Wonwoo just exactly how he has forged this lifetime friendship with Seungcheol, but whatever cosmic miracle has allowed them to be this close, Wonwoo silently sends it his gratitude.

 

Except for _now._

Now, when it’s clear— contrary to today’s gray-filled weather— to Wonwoo that Seungcheol wants something because that’s the same pair of eyes that he used to convince poor, naïve Wonwoo to attend the gathering (without letting on the fact that they are actually short of attendees, the flier-handing was done more out of desperation than genuine hospitality. And Wonwoo’s insides are once again burning with childish spite at the memory).

 

Wonwoo tries to avoid that road of getting carried away with whatever Seungcheol’s about to blurt in a minute’s time, so he speaks first.

“You know, that was particularly mean of you. To flirt with that girl, I mean. Jihyo’s a very nice girl, that I would tell you, so you better be guilty as fuck right now, you chaotic bas-“

“You know that's not what I'm here to talk about. I’ve been trying to call you for a while now, Wonwoo. Why aren’t you answering any of them? I know I tried to pass it as a joke, but are things really fine with work?”

 

_Oh._

This was an entirely different direction than what he had expected the conversation to flow, and he can’t say that he prefers this much more than the one he first guessed.

 

Suddenly, Wonwoo can feel his phone, which is, at this point of time, nothing but a dead weight to his flimsy excuse of a body.

Wonwoo buries his nails on his skin, forming crescents, a habit he’s developed out of his anxiety-weaved childhood and some _other times_. Seungcheol notices this and immediately reaches for his free hand across the table.

 

Truth be told, things at work have been fine, _too fine_ , and that may have been the problem. It is during times like this that Wonwoo beats himself up for not pausing after graduation, too eager to repress whatever problems were left unresolved in college. But it’s not like he has the time back then. He was burdened a bit too earlier than what could have been considered normal.

Well, so much for wishful thinking, now that it bites him— in small portions— back in the ass.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s been fine. Things are still the same.” _And will continue to be,_ but Wonwoo opts to take that bit out. Seungcheol’s his best friend _for god's sake_ , not his therapist. Besides, the man has got too much on his platter to even be this decent in accepting and hearing other people's problems.

He looks at Seungcheol and has noted that the man is probably not buying the whole thing, but lets it go anyway with a sigh and a reminder that he’s always available to talk. Wonwoo nods just to show some reaction to this.

 

“So, why were you trying to call me, anyway? Too much time on your hands? Or have you, dare I say, missed me?” Wonwoo adds the last bit suggestively in order to stir the atmosphere clear of any tension that has been built during his semi-brooding session.

Seungcheol once again brightens at that, and shakes with so much glee that it’s throwing Wonwoo off the loop.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s gotten into you? Did you finally ask out that cute intern you’ve been bugging since day 1?”

Seungcheol passionately shakes his head, and for a moment Wonwoo’s scared that his head would be detached from the rest of his body.

“No man, this is even better! You know how I’ve been working my way up since I bagged that production assistant position for one of the dramas that aired earlier this year?”

 

Wonwoo pretends to think about it just to mess with Seungcheol a bit, even if it was still vivid in his memory how excited Seungcheol was when it was first announced to him as they were having one of their movie marathon nights in Wonwoo’s apartment.

 

“The one with Moon Seri in it?

“Not ringing a bell to me, sorry dude.”

“The one which had basically risen KBC’s hopes of seeing a 50% rating from the dead? For a non-daily drama?”

“Hm, still can’t remember.”

 

At this point, Seungcheol’s exasperated and he knows that Wonwoo’s out to rob him of his sanity, so he relents,

“The one that I cried about in joy for days? Which forced me to go to the office with shades on because they’re too puffy? The one which had Jeonghan terrorizing me for a week, chewing my ear off about fashion and whatnot?”

“Ah, now that you put it that way…”

Wonwoo fakes realization, to which he receives a middle finger.

“You. Are. The. Biggest. Asshole. I. Fucking. Swear.”

Wonwoo basically hollers, but gestures for Seungcheol to proceed.

 

“So, yeah, anyway, the production company I work for, with Jeonghan, and Jisoo,” Seungcheol grumbles the last part a bit and if this were any other situation Wonwoo would make fun of how it seems like Seungcheol has never moved on from the rejection he received on the first term of his last year in college (painful, but also a great source of entertainment for some— Wonwoo included), but something tells him that whatever Seungcheol’s about to say is something of great importance. For whom exactly, guess Wonwoo’s just about to find out. “saw how hard I worked to see the production up to its end and told me that they’re willing to allow me to produce my own drama! Can you believe?”

 

Wonwoo’s simply stunned up to his toes. This is big news. And if it weren’t for his overpowering sense of pride, he would have cried for Seungcheol. Ironically, he’s sincerely in every bit and essence of the word, proud.

 

“Wow, Seungcheol. That’s, uh, wow, that’s wonderful!”

 

At this, his best friend grins and squeals, and once again Seungcheol grabs both of his hands.

“Thanks! I know, right? The director’s been decided, guess who it is?”

“Who?”

“Jeonghan.”

 

Wonwoo stares at Seungcheol for a second. And a second more.

“What in the actual fuck is going on inside your head, Choi Seungcheol?”

“Hear me out, okay. When I first pitched in for the concept Jeonghan was the first to support me, the higher ups eventually agreed, but I know that if it were not for Jeonghan, I would’ve witnessed my first opportunity to create something I want slip away. The concept I have in mind would be a breakthrough, but that would also mean that it’s risky. Some of the heads have given it a go signal but the investors are kind of reluctant due to the possible financial repercussions, but when I got Jeonghan on board, they’ve softened. I know that there’s been bad blood between us during our uni days but all that’s faded and worn out. So, you got to understand, Won, he’s earned his keep.”

 

Wonwoo takes a deep breath and finally nods.

“If that’s what you want, Cheol. Whatever choices you might make, I’d be happy to support you.”

 

Seungcheol beams at that, and practically gets out of his seat to envelop Wonwoo in a bone-crushing hug. Like this, Wonwoo doesn’t really mind the subtle stench from Seungcheol that most probably has been caused by the hectic lifestyle that the current film they’ve been tasked to produce this time around has demanded from them.

The person at the counter, Wonwoo notes, has been glaring at them and it seems to be going on for quite a while already. That’s when he remembered that they haven’t ordered anything yet from the store, and the embarrassment warms his cheek. He’s about to shove Seungcheol off when the man spoke.

 

“Also…..”

“Also what?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

 

See, this is the kind of conversation which ticks Wonwoo off perfectly. He especially hates statements that are founded on conditions. Moreover, what’s there to get mad about? He’s not even related to this whole fiasco, much less involved in the very core of it, so really, Wonwoo finds it hard to understand as to what’s there to get mad about. His face lights up in realization. _Unless.._

 

“Spit it out, Choi Seungcheol. What devil work have you done this time?”

“It’s nothing bad, I swear! It’s just…”

Wonwoo closes his eyes the moment Seungcheol trails off. Again.

“If you trail off for the third time, best believe me when I say that I would slam you down this table.”

Seungcheol gulps once again, but he’s gutless more than what he lets on. Or so he says. He spits the words in a hurry.

“I’veshownthecompanysomeofyourworksincollegeandtheywanttosignyouin.”

 

After that, he sees his best friend holding out his fist in defense. _As if Wonwoo would really have the heart to physically assault Seungcheol and beat his dignity out of him._ He’s not an advocate of violence no matter how harsh he may speak and how scary the slits of his eyes might paint him to be.

 

“What?”

 

“They want to sign you in as a writer for the production company. Your prospective first project would be the one which I would produce but yeah, you know there’re a lot of benefits for this and I know that it’s too sudden for you, Wonwoo, and you would need to leave your current job for this, but I’m sure that it would all be worth it. Would you take it, Won? Actually, if you want I can brief you about the whole thing right now, I’d email you first thing later evening all the details but you need to hear this out so—“

Wonwoo completely tunes Seungcheol out right there. He _needs_ to process this part by part. Honestly, Wonwoo’s on the verge of being overwhelmed but for once, the pragmatist in him came in handy and has managed to have everything under control.

 

Someone actually _wants_ to sign him. _As a writer_. Wonwoo gets to do what he loves the most and get paid for it. That, in itself, is surreal.

 

But then there’s the part where he needs to leave his job for this. He knows that he’s not happy with his job right now, but it is stable, it makes sure he gets to eat something every day and that he can pay the bills on time. _It is safe._ But he looks back at how mundane his day went and how, now that he gives himself a chance to look back, it is as mundane as the days, months, _years,_ before it. And he mentally transports himself to that one summer night wherein he had been set on flushing his dreams away. He can still hear the words uttered inside his room, nonetheless, by his father minutes before he makes a beeline straight towards their gate and onto the field.

 

_You think you can live with this piece of trash, huh? Wake up, boy. Don’t make me catch any news of you being a disgrace to this family._

 

Wonwoo visibly shudders at the thought and with how seemingly real the words ring in his ears right now. He looks back and remembers how the only reason he got to keep his program up until graduation is because he excelled in it and has managed to bag a scholarship starting the second semester of his first year— that, and his father ran off with some woman from a foreign country he once fancied, leaving them in debt and in shame. _So much for being a disgrace._

 

It is safe to assume that Wonwoo’s completed the role he has long been denying himself that he’s been playing yet still fills out perfectly. There are no more debts to pay, and his mother’s been well the last time he heard from her. His older brother’s just risen up the ranks in his current company. And for once, Wonwoo yearns to do something which he could wholeheartedly say he enjoys. He shakes himself out of the daze and faces Seungcheol, who appears to have been still rambling about the technicalities of the project.

 

He breathes his newfound sense of determination.

 

“— so that’s the cast that we have in mind. We’re set to contact their agencies for their schedules for the latter half of the year as well as the first half of next year, so that we can work out when we can start filming. And as soon as you finish the script which you would need to work out as early as now, by the way, so that you can pass it for evaluation in 3 months’ time, we would be sending it for the actors to review. But before anything else, I would like to ask you if you’re fine with them? You know, since these are your characters they'd be fleshing out or whatnot, really.”

 

“Sirs, would you like to order now? It’s been an hour and my boss is grilling my ass to ask you if you are ready to get anything by this time? Maybe an Americano to start?”

 

Despite the stark the difference in the length of their statements, what they’ve both said has been lost to Wonwoo, carved into a huge jumbled mess of words. And really, Wonwoo should have been paying more attention to what Seungcheol’s been telling him since this is his job, _and the remainder of his life,_ on the line, but it’s not like he can go and reason out that the reason why he hasn’t heard the greater bit of Seungcheol’s rambles was because he was zoning out (really, it defeats the whole concept of what he had just done, so yeah). Wonwoo opens his mouth and closes it real hard, only to be met with a pain at the back of his head. Oh, so now he’s having a headache. Fucking fantastic. All of a sudden, he’s not entirely sure as to why he’s still here instead of lying on his bed, and he just wants them both to stop staring at him, so really he takes the easiest route that would lead to the fewer amounts of statements to follow.

 

“Yes.”

 

But, alas, Seungcheol proves to be the very bane of his existence, and has managed to find an appropriate follow-up question to his short-lived eternal answer.

“Yes to what?”

 

Wonwoo grits out a response out of his system, hoping that this will end the mini interrogation that’s been in progress for some time now.

“Yes to both, Seungcheol.” He hurriedly looks at the girl “and miss?”

“Wendy.”

“Yes, Wendy. Please get us both an Americano.”

 

And despite his headache, Wonwoo can’t help but crack a smile as Wendy leaves and he’s left to digest the things that have transpired today. He sees Seungcheol enthusiastically ramble again, which he tunes out once more, and hopes that whatever he’s been going off about won’t lead him to any bad choices, in his new work or life in general.

 

And once he looks back at this moment, Jeon Wonwoo would have concluded that zoning out is criminally detrimental to his well-being and the rest that follows. Especially when it involves a certain someone he’s been hoping, up until the present, to never have the pleasure of crossing paths with. _Again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS WORK WILL BE UPDATED COME MARCH 30, 2018 I FRIGGIN SWEAR ON MY NON-EXISTENT GRAVE
> 
> UPDATED: SO THAT, SEE ABOVE, WAS A FUCKING LIE AND NOW I'M NEARING A YEAR AND THIS SHIT IS STILL FUCKING EMPTY.  
> I'M REALLY SORRY, SO AS SOME FORM OF APOLOGY I HAVE WRITTEN THIS CHAPTER JUST TO GET THINGS ROLLING.  
> I JUST FINISHED WRITING THIS MF AFTER 3 HOURS BECAUSE I’M A SLOWPOKE LIKE THAT AND I’m BEyOND EXHAUSTION SO UGH  
> FEEL FREE TO COMMENT, SUBSCRIBE, BOOKMARK, LEAVE A KUDOS, OR SEND SOME MEMES BELOW.


End file.
